all grown up
It wasn't the fact that she woke up late. Or alone.
It wasn't the fact that she burnt breakfast. Or that Liam was late for school.
Nor was it the fact that she couldn't do anything to console their sick daughter, her cries piercing the air, making her cold worse.
She'd finally given up, almost in tears herself and drove over to her parents' for help.
Mary Margret took one look at Emma's tired appearance and her tearful granddaughter and ushered them both in, picking Dahlia up from Emma's arms, rocking her back and forth as she went in search of medicine.
David chuckled lightly, sitting next to Emma and hugged her, soothing her and consoled as she cried, missing her stupid husband who'd decided now was the right time to take Henry on a camping trip.
'Some quality time, Swan, man-to-man,' he'd winked, before kissing her goodbye.
It was none of that.
It was the package she stumbled over, almost waking up a (finally!) slumbering Daliah. The thick envelop was placed right outside her door. (The mailbox was knocked over when Killian backed out the car yesterday)
It was a stupid big, thick envelop with the Stanford stamping on it that had her sitting on their bed, crying and sniffling, Daliah sleeping soundly on her lap.
And that's how her husband found her. To say he was startled would have been an understatement.
"Swan?" he rushed over, taking a seat next to her, his hand reaching up and wiping her tears away. "What is it, love?" he looked down at their daughter, brushing back some of her hair. "Is it Dahlia? Is something wrong with her?" he asked, worried now as it only made her cry harder.
He felt helpless, rubbing her back as she buried her head on his shoulder, her own shaking with her sobs.
"Darling, you're worrying me. What happened?" he pleaded, his chin balanced on her head, as she breathed in deep.
She pulled back, sniffling. He smiled softly at her, wiping away stray tears. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?" he asked gently.
She nodded, swallowing thickly, looking down at the angel sleeping soundly, bending down to kiss her forehead. Dahlia shifted in her sleep, but otherwise made no movement.
"Swan," Killian sighed, pulling her gaze back to him. He started at her, wordlessly coaxing her to spill the beans.
"Henry got into Stanford," she whispered, watching as his grin fell slightly.
"Oh," he breathed, running a hand through his hair. "Well," he cleared his throat. "We did talk about this. We should be proud of him, Swan," his tone was entirely unconvincing.
"Of course I am proud of him," she shot back, scrubbing her face. "But-," she sighs, shaking her head. "A part of me hoped he wouldn't get in," she confessed.
He sighed, interlacing their fingers together. "So did I," he added quietly, making her whip her head up.
She smiled sadly, "Our boy's all grown up," her bottom lip trembled as she wiped away the tear rolling down her husband's face.
"Aye, that he is," he kissed her palm. "I'm going to miss him, Swan," he swallowed thickly, burying his face in her neck.
It was now her turn to console him, "I know, baby. So will I," she kissed the top of his head, pouting slightly.
Dahlia stirred in her lap, making Killian pull back as Emma picked her up, rocking her back to sleep.
"I better go put her down to sleep," she moved off the bed, heading towards their daughter's room.
Killian sighed, running his hands through his hair. They'd talked about it when Henry told them he was applying there. Told themselves that it would be okay. It doesn't matter how far away he is, he will always love them. But none of that helped now, now that he really got in. He never doubted that he would get in, the lad was brilliant! But that doesn't make it any easier on any of them.
He walked up to Henry's room, the envelop in hand. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the lad's door.